


The Other Woman

by artificialmac



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Branjie fluff though, Fluff and Angst, Heartache, Heartbreak, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19055965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac
Summary: Nina has been in love with Brooke for almost ten years, as she reflects on her own feelings, she ponders how Vanjie fits into the equation.





	The Other Woman

**Author's Note:**

> This is another stream-of-consciousness kinda piece. It isn't super polished and perfect, but I think it gets the message across.

Nina was the one to first make the joke about being the other woman. Brooke immediately burst into giggles. The Canadian queen had a bit too much to drink that night, and she was doing the thing where her nose would scrunch up and the lines that she so hated looking at would appear. Nina loved them though, because that meant that Brooke was laughing. Vanessa giggled too, but Nina saw her arm, that was currently wrapped around the taller queen, pull an inch closer, almost subconsciously looking at Nina as if to say, “This one’s mine.” Nina knew this already. She knew Brooke belonged to Vanessa, knew Brooke belonged to so many more people than just her. 

But Brock was different. 

Sure, Brock also belonged to Vanessa/Jose, but Brock belonged to fewer people than Brooke. Brock had fifteen contacts in his phone, most of them work related, and only a few friends, one of which was Nina. 

Nina didn’t mind being the other woman, as long as she got to stay like this. Close enough to be there, if he needed, but distanced enough to know that it would never happen between them. There was a certain calm in that heartbreak. Nina always knew where she stood. 

Which is what she wanted. 

 

But-

But sometimes, like now, when she was all alone, surrounded by people in a noisy bar, she would think about those times in Florida. She tried not to, gods she really did try. But the thoughts always came with liquor, and Nina would be lying if she said she didn’t drink on purpose. Most people drink to forget, Nina drank to remember. She drank to remember the feeling of his fingers tracing down her spine, his hands cupping her face, his hips solid and firm under her touch, his mouth, god his mouth. Nina could write album after album about Brock’s fucking mouth. (Maybe wait to release that a bit after her children’s album though.) She remembered it all so vividly when she drank. Nothing really even happened. There was some kissing. There was some grinding. There was Nina falling inexplicably in love with Brock. But nothing really happened.

And Nina knew Brock didn’t feel the same way. And she was pretty sure he didn’t know the extent of her feelings.

 

Although-

Although sometimes, Brock would get a little too tipsy and say something suggestive and give Nina a _look_. One that Nina hardly ever saw. It was all knowing, all powerful. It made Nina want to drop to her knees when she saw it. And at those times, she was pretty sure Brock knew.

So, Nina was pretty sure that Brock knew, in some part of his mind, and she was positive that Jose knew, it wasn’t hard. She leaned into every touch, lingered too long at every whisper, stared too much in general. It was hateful the way her chest rose and fell to the beat at which Brock walked. She wishes she could not be _that_ friend. She tried. For a long time. She tried to be content with their relationship as it was. But when Brock drank, he got touchy-feely, and Nina would be lying if she said she didn’t like how their hands would link as they drunkenly stumbled back to their hotel.

Even after Florida, even after all the pageants, there was still a type of casual intimacy that came with being in the same room. And maybe when she saw him at Drag Race, a little part of her was hoping that they could rekindle some of what they had. But it seemed like the universe had different plans.

Before Drag Race, Nina hadn’t ever thought Brock would settle down. He seemed in no rush to date or marry, and maybe it was stupid, but that gave Nina hope. Hope that was quickly snuffed out by the appearance of one compact Puerto Rican spitfire with the voice of a lawnmower. 

People joked online that Brooke had turned Vanessa from a hooker to a housewife, but Nina knew it was really the opposite. Vanessa had always been waiting for her Prince Charming to come along; Brock never believed in fairytales to begin with, so when he found himself in the middle of one, he didn’t know what else to do but lean in. 

Nina had the absolute privilege of hearing all of it. From the first days in the werkroom, a simple attraction, nothing more. To Brock’s full on breakdown a week later when he realized he was in way too deep for such a short time period. Nina was there for him to bounce ideas off of, and cry on the shoulder of, and whisper secrets to. Nina was the only person that got to see Brock for who he was. 

Nervous, indecisive, imperfect, in love. With someone else.

It hurt more than she cared to admit. It shouldn’t. 

It did. 

It does.

Nina is in the worst timeline. She is everything she swore she would never be. She thought she left those friend-zoned days in college, chasing after boys who could never love her back. Evidently not, as she watched the subject of her affection for almost ten years now, dance with his lover. 

Nina was happy for them. She was. Genuinely, she had never seen Brock happier than when he was with Jose. The two seemed to complement each other’s flaws in every way. Where Jose could get out of control at times, Brock, who was always in control, knew exactly what to say to calm him down. Where Brock could get lost in his own head, worrying or doubting or just dreading, Jose could pull him out of his thoughts with a joke or a smile, anything to get him to focus on his body rather than his mind. It was truly heartwarming to watch the two figure each other out. From their loves and hates, to their weird obsessions. They genuinely grew to care and love one another, and it was good. 

And it was bad. 

And it was everything Nina and Brooke had already done. 

But somehow, for some reason, that wasn’t enough. There was something in Jose that Nina just didn’t have. And that h u r t.

And if Nina went to bed drunk off her ass, with the ghost of familiar fingertips on the back of her neck, she wouldn’t mention it.


End file.
